There are videos in YouTube featuring Hitler and the SS marching to the Imperial March. I think this tune suits them well. Sorry if anyone finds this offensive- but that is THE background music used nowadays to depict any kind of villain/trouble, and who is more regarded as a universal villain than Hitler and the Nazis?

A few months ago, there was an official state visit to the UK by members of the Saudi Arabian royal family. As their cars drew up, the military band started playing the Imperial March. It had to be deliberate.

(It was edited out of BBC broadcasts of the event, but one of our other TV channels played the original version.)

Another thing you shouldn't laugh at: I went to wikipedia to look up the Imperial March. I got the John Williams version.

Now I'm imagining all these characters marching along to Darth Vader's theme.

Isn't that the Imperial March that everyone has been talking about here? I see that there is another Imperial March, but I thought the PPs were referring to the Star Wars music (Thus whiterose's comment: "that is THE background music used nowadays to depict any kind of villain/trouble"). Was I completely misunderstanding?

I don't think they were saying Hitler actually marched to that music. I think what they meant was that someone took a video of Hitler marching, added the music on top, and posted it to youtube (adding music to video clips/making "music videos" from various video clips is pretty popular on youtube).

There are videos in YouTube featuring Hitler and the SS marching to the Imperial March. I think this tune suits them well. Sorry if anyone finds this offensive- but that is THE background music used nowadays to depict any kind of villain/trouble, and who is more regarded as a universal villain than Hitler and the Nazis?

A few months ago, there was an official state visit to the UK by members of the Saudi Arabian royal family. As their cars drew up, the military band started playing the Imperial March. It had to be deliberate.

(It was edited out of BBC broadcasts of the event, but one of our other TV channels played the original version.)

Another thing you shouldn't laugh at: I went to wikipedia to look up the Imperial March. I got the John Williams version.

Now I'm imagining all these characters marching along to Darth Vader's theme.

Isn't that the Imperial March that everyone has been talking about here? I see that there is another Imperial March, but I thought the PPs were referring to the Star Wars music (Thus whiterose's comment: "that is THE background music used nowadays to depict any kind of villain/trouble"). Was I completely misunderstanding?

I don't think they were saying Hitler actually marched to that music. I think what they meant was that someone took a video of Hitler marching, added the music on top, and posted it to youtube (adding music to video clips/making "music videos" from various video clips is pretty popular on youtube).

>_< Ah. I see. And I would have given anything to see the look on the Saudi Arabian dignitary's face when he realized what was playing.

I think there's little that can't be joked about - IF you know how to do it.

Apparently, concentration camp survivors have often said that one thing that helped keep them alive was a sense of humour.

A member of my temple is the son of a survivor. His father, Victor, was 15 when he was liberated. Jerry said his father often commented that humor and faith were what enabled him to survive, and Victor told Jerry a lot of the jokes they used to tell. The only one I remember that I think is appropriate is this one:

Victor said they used to talk about food a lot - planning meals, menus and dinner parties for after liberation. Victor said he knew he'd mess up because when the hostess served the soup he'd be imploring "Ladle it from the bottom!" (Because whatever solid bits there were, would be at the bottom - the rest was just barely flavored water.)

Victor also told Jerry the words to a song, that I've heard elsewhere as well - it's set to the "Colonel Bogie March" and is a little off-color. Victor said they used to sing it when they heard Allied planes flying:

Hitler has only got one b***Goering has two, but very smallHimmlerHas something sim'larAnd Goebbels has got no b***s at all!

When I was in college I was friends with a guy who had almost completely lost his eyesight at a young age. He could still see outlines and colours but not too much else. He walked with a white cane.

He used to go into the pubs - hide his white cane under the table - and tell the waitress he was the designated driver so he got free drinks all night. He said the waitresses got so mad when he walked out of the bar using his cane. I know I shouldn't have laughed but oh it was funny.

Victor also told Jerry the words to a song, that I've heard elsewhere as well - it's set to the "Colonel Bogie March" and is a little off-color. Victor said they used to sing it when they heard Allied planes flying:Hitler has only got one b***Goering has two, but very smallHimmlerHas something sim'larAnd Goebbels has got no b***s at all!

I always thought the last line went "And poor old Goebbels has no b***s at all!"

One evening, a few years ago, I was sitting in an army tent, playing cards with some fellows who had just returned from a tour in Bosnia.Their tours dated from the early days of intervention, when things were still very grim and dangerous.

They coped with dark humour.

One of the rules they lived by was that as neutral forces, they were not allowed to recover or deal with any bodies of locals that they encountered.This was partly for safety (booby traps and such) but partly because it might be seen as favouritism (or offensive, depending on how one viewed it) to bury one side's dead.

As a result, for months as they walked to work, they passed two bodies whom they were not allowed to respect by burying.

One was a man in a green shirt, the other was a body in the river.

So, as they walked to work, they'd give their greetings to "Bob" (the man in the river) and "Mr. Green", ask them how they were etc etc.

Logged

"I think her scattergun was only loaded with commas and full-stops, although some of them cuddled together for warmth and produced little baby colons and semi-colons." ~ Margo

One evening, a few years ago, I was sitting in an army tent, playing cards with some fellows who had just returned from a tour in Bosnia.Their tours dated from the early days of intervention, when things were still very grim and dangerous.

They coped with dark humour.

One of the rules they lived by was that as neutral forces, they were not allowed to recover or deal with any bodies of locals that they encountered.This was partly for safety (booby traps and such) but partly because it might be seen as favouritism (or offensive, depending on how one viewed it) to bury one side's dead.

As a result, for months as they walked to work, they passed two bodies whom they were not allowed to respect by burying.

One was a man in a green shirt, the other was a body in the river.

So, as they walked to work, they'd give their greetings to "Bob" (the man in the river) and "Mr. Green", ask them how they were etc etc.

My parents have a small, black, fluffy, cute as all get out, sweet as candy schipperke. (Apparently they are suppose to be mean dogs?) In the years that I was living away from home she has aged a good deal. She's nearly blind. She doesn't hear that well. She gets lost in the house and forgets what she's doing. Thankfully for the most part she's still house trained.

Anyway, after moving back in I walked into my parents bedroom and she was laying on the bed not breathing and when I touched her she was in full rigor mortis! Agh! I yelled down the hall for my mom, turned around and the dog had her head up looking at me. Ok I freaked. Come to find out that's how she is when she sleeps now. I could have sworn she was dead. Dad confessed that he pokes her all the time to make sure she's still with us and it's turned into a joke.

A friend of mine is completely blind from birth. I worked with her for a while, in a bead store. Part of her job (everyone's job, really) was bagging small thing in tiny plastic bags. We once got some defective bags in the shipment, and when Dianne went to bag the tiny beads, they all fell out the unsealed bottom. She tried 3 bags before giving up, by that time we were crying we were laughing so hard.

Dianne has a pretty awesome sense of humor, she even tolerates my SO (who can sometimes be a little hard to take). He will creep up behind her, put his hands over her eyes and whisper "guess who?"

That reminds me of my college roommate Brian (there were seven of us sharing an old house). Brian was legally blind, though he had some peripheral vision and could read print if it was *very* large, but he routinely used Braille and a white cane.

For awhile we had another blind roommate, Mike, a friend of Brian's. They shared a room and bathroom and were forever playing practical jokes on each other. As in, Mike took Brian's can of aerosol deodorant and replaced it with aerosol hairspray. Brian retaliated by substituting hemorrhoid cream for Mike's toothpaste. So Mike switched Brian's spray for his manly parts with air freshener. And so on...leaving the rest of us wetting ourselves with laughter.

Brian and Mike did *not* like the student who rented our living room sofa one summer. I've posted about this creep elsewhere; suffice it to say his nickname in the household was The White Swine (WS). WS was very uncomfortable around Mike and Brian, as well as prejudiced against "the handicapped," and they capitalized on that ... asking him if they could touch his clothes to "see" what color they were, passing him the Tabasco when he asked for ketchup, and so on.

But my favorite Brian stories are: when he walked into the edge of a door. His comment? "Heck, I did that when I *could* see!" (Note: Brian had been blind since shortly after birth.) And, once when I went to the student services office with him (they handled things like disability accommodations), the new lady working there almost turned her tongue inside out to avoid using the words "handicapped" and "disabled." She finally settled on "differently abled." Brian looked straight at her and said "How about 'blind?'"

That reminds me of my college roommate Brian (there were seven of us sharing an old house). Brian was legally blind, though he had some peripheral vision and could read print if it was *very* large, but he routinely used Braille and a white cane.

For awhile we had another blind roommate, Mike, a friend of Brian's. They shared a room and bathroom and were forever playing practical jokes on each other. As in, Mike took Brian's can of aerosol deodorant and replaced it with aerosol hairspray. Brian retaliated by substituting hemorrhoid cream for Mike's toothpaste. So Mike switched Brian's spray for his manly parts with air freshener. And so on...leaving the rest of us wetting ourselves with laughter.

Brian and Mike did *not* like the student who rented our living room sofa one summer. I've posted about this creep elsewhere; suffice it to say his nickname in the household was The White Swine (WS). WS was very uncomfortable around Mike and Brian, as well as prejudiced against "the handicapped," and they capitalized on that ... asking him if they could touch his clothes to "see" what color they were, passing him the Tabasco when he asked for ketchup, and so on.

But my favorite Brian stories are: when he walked into the edge of a door. His comment? "Heck, I did that when I *could* see!" (Note: Brian had been blind since shortly after birth.) And, once when I went to the student services office with him (they handled things like disability accommodations), the new lady working there almost turned her tongue inside out to avoid using the words "handicapped" and "disabled." She finally settled on "differently abled." Brian looked straight at her and said "How about 'blind?'"

When I heard of Gary Coleman’s passing today, all I could think about was telling someone, and having them answer, ‘Whatchoo talkin’ about, Willis??” Then having that as the title of an article announcing his death, or having it inscribed on his headstone.

My parents have a small, black, fluffy, cute as all get out, sweet as candy schipperke. (Apparently they are suppose to be mean dogs?) In the years that I was living away from home she has aged a good deal. She's nearly blind. She doesn't hear that well. She gets lost in the house and forgets what she's doing. Thankfully for the most part she's still house trained.

Anyway, after moving back in I walked into my parents bedroom and she was laying on the bed not breathing and when I touched her she was in full rigor mortis! Agh! I yelled down the hall for my mom, turned around and the dog had her head up looking at me. Ok I freaked. Come to find out that's how she is when she sleeps now. I could have sworn she was dead. Dad confessed that he pokes her all the time to make sure she's still with us and it's turned into a joke.

Schipperkes are mean? I've never met one who wasn't a total sweetheart. My former neighbors had one who was a bit volatile when they adopted her, but after she was diagnosed with heartworm and treated, she did a complete turnaround and became a major love muffin.

They are smart dogs, too. Sounds as if your parents' dog truly knows the meaning of "play dead."